


That damn front door (or "Hey, TK")

by hazel_eyed_bi



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Awkwardness, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Guatemalan Carlos Reyes, Guitar lessons, Guitarist TK, Happy Ending, I couldn't stop and im not sorry, M/M, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Music, Mutual Pining, Yearning, this is like seven tropes in one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25230805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazel_eyed_bi/pseuds/hazel_eyed_bi
Summary: After months of living with his dad, TK finally gets his own place, only to find that his next door neighbor is that handsome police officer he's been crushing on from afar.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes & Owen Strand, Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Michelle Blake & Carlos Reyes (9-1-1 Lone Star), Owen Strand & TK Strand
Comments: 22
Kudos: 203





	That damn front door (or "Hey, TK")

**Author's Note:**

> You might want to look up Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol before reading this if you haven't heard it before. If you have, carry on! 
> 
> Any and all comments are welcome, appreciated, and encouraged!!

“Any other day. Any day but today. Why today?” TK muttered as he turned off the ignition and pulled up his hoodie. “It never rains in Austin. Except for today. Why.” He sat there for just a minute, head against the back of his seat and fingers fiddling with the cord of his hood, all the while entranced by the drizzle hitting the pavement and the raindrops racing down his windshield. TK was never one to turn down a rainy day, he loved them, but only when he had the choice to stay in; Hulu or Netflix browsing and some hot chocolate, or perhaps practicing on the guitar that no one knew he owned, while any and all outside distractions were blocked out by the curtain of white noise that was a steady rainfall outside his window? A perfect day in his book. He’d get plenty of those in New York during the late summer, and he made the most of them on the few days he had off from work, but in the five months he’d spent in Austin, not once had there been a rainy day such as this one.

And it just had to be the day he was moving into his new house.

It was 6am on a Sunday, his one day off, and his dad had all but dragged him off the bed. Owen was otherwise occupied that day with a certain professor of psychology, but he _had_ helped TK pack and stuff all the remaining boxes into the car the night before (not to mention, he was lending TK the Cherokee in the first place), so he couldn't exactly complain. He could still, however, curse under his breath as much as he wanted, which is exactly what he did as he willed himself to get out of the car and run back to the trunk. 

He was struggling to get it open (because of _course_ , it was going to give him trouble _now_ ) when he heard another car pull up behind him. He hoped and prayed for lightning to strike him down then and there, as it would be less embarrassing than being seen for the first time struggling with his car by one of his new neighbors, but the trunk popped open before he could finish the thought; perhaps a little too suddenly, since it almost hit him in the chin. It was a day of almost-bad luck for him.

Half curiosity and half paranoia forced him to take a peek over his shoulder, but the rain and darkness of the early morning wouldn't let him make out the person in the driver's seat of the Camaro. The car was still running even though it was parked, meaning the person was maybe waiting for the rain to let up, therefore, they'd see TK's entire ordeal. So TK, being TK and looking to make an impression, took a box, then another, then piled a third on top before realizing his abysmal mistake. The tower of boxes came up to his nose if he held his head up.

With much effort and coordination between his left arm and his torso, he managed to shut the trunk, cursing his father for not investing in the hands-free feature for the car. He then heard the Camaro turn off behind him and the driver's door opening, prompting TK to resume his silent request for lightning to make quick work of him.

"Here, let me help you with that," He heard the person's voice through the spattering of the rain. Any second now, lightning, TK thought.

Not wanting to come off as rude, he turned around and let them take the top two boxes before immediately facing the ground to hide his face under his hood.

It was him. _It was the hot cop_.

Every once in a while (multiple times in a week, if he was lucky), TK would spot this hunk of a policeman on calls or patrolling around town, but he’d never get the chance to talk to him. He was damn good at his job, and TK had once or twice seen him respond to the name 'Reyes'. That's all he knew about the man, apart from the fact that his patrol uniform was just tight enough around his shoulders to make TK stare without meaning to. And now, he knew that his smile could make even a day this bleak look brighter.

TK muttered a quick thanks as he briskly made his way towards the door of his new modern home, Hot Cop Reyes following close behind. Once under the small roof of the entryway, waiting for TK to open the front door, Hot Cop balanced the boxes against his torso with one hand and used the other to shake the rain out of his curls. He must've noticed TK staring out of the corner of his eye, because he smiled at him again, and TK turned away so as to not be blinded by the sight. He was fumbling to get the key into the knob when Hot Cop spoke up.

"Are you new to Austin?"

God, even his voice was hot. TK had heard him yelling orders before, from a distance, and that was enough to make his breath hitch; hearing him up close, casual and easy and right over TK's shoulder, it made the hairs at the nape of his neck rise. Good thing he was wearing a hoodie.

He snapped himself out of it to mumble a reply. "Uh no, I- I've um, I've been here a few months."

Smooth, TK.

He finally got the lock open, wondering why every single door that stood in his way that morning was out to get him, and led Hot Cop inside.

There wasn't much in the house yet; a couch, a wall-mounted TV, a half-stocked fridge, a couple of kitchen appliances, and enough in the bedroom and bathroom to last him until he could buy whatever was left with his next paychecks; but the cream and brown tones of the walls and the little but functional furniture he had made TK feel good enough about the small house to not make any excuses or apologies about not being settled in yet.

TK set his box down next to the door, and Hot Cop followed suit.

"I'm Carlos, by the way."

 _Finally_ , TK thought, turning to find _Carlos_ with an outstretched hand and a tight smile that only broadened when he saw TK's face. There was a knowing glint in his eyes, and TK figured there was no more use in hiding, so he pulled back his hood and shook Carlos' (strong, callused, and yet, somehow, soft) hand.

"TK."

"Yeah." Carlos slightly tilted his head to the side. "You're fire department. You're pretty good at what you do."

TK's heartbeat picked up. Had Carlos ( _gosh,_ he loved knowing his name) noticed him too? Like, how TK had noticed him? He let the sliver of hope boost his confidence a bit. "You're not so bad yourself, Carlos."

* * *

Had he told Michelle to meet up at an earlier hour, Carlos didn't even want to think about what could've happened. Had he not stopped to check his mail on his way out, he might have already left. For all he knew, if he hadn't been at home that particular day at that particular time, TK could've burned down the whole neighborhood.

He just knew his heart dropped to his stomach when he heard his neighbor's fire alarm go off.

His feet were rushing him toward the house before his brain could even fully process the situation (something he would later mark up to police training instincts). Carlos quickly assessed the structure: he couldn't see any smoke, at least from the front of the house, and he could only detect a faint smell of burning from the front steps.

He tried the knob and found it locked. "TK! TK, I'm coming in!" 

With one hand reaching for his phone to call for help, he slammed his body against the door, knocking it open at the third try. He instantly found himself drowning in white smoke and the stench of burning... fish?

"TK!" He called out again.

A cough from the kitchen and a tired "Here," was his response.

Carlos made his way over, still staying low and covering his nose and mouth with his elbow. TK stood in front of the stove, cooking mitt and rag in his hands, defeated eyes on the blackened salmon in front of him. Mirroring his stance, Carlos stood next to TK, and after about two minutes could no longer suppress it. He chuckled.

"Don't laugh."

"I'm sorry," Carlos muttered behind his fist, laughing more.

"Dude, seriously, don't laugh," TK repeated, starting to smile himself.

Carlos leaned back against the counter, now on the verge of hysterical. "The fireman almost burns down his new house while cooking a fish, _mano_ , that's hilarious."

TK playfully threw him the cooking rag, telling him to shut up in between chuckles that turned into coughs. After a good while of laughing along, TK exhaled. "I should probably open some windows."

"I think so, yeah," Carlos sarcastically played along, earning himself a cooking mitt to the shoulder.

As TK began opening windows around the house, the wheels in Carlos' head began to spin. He was a pretty experienced cook, and next to him on the counter were a couple more fish. Michelle would understand if he texted her that there was an emergency with his neighbor and he wasn't going to make it to eat before their shifts. 

He spoke up before his nerves had a chance to betray him. "Hey, TK."

It was weird. So very weird, Carlos thought. Weird how drawn he felt to this man. Weird how much he wanted to be in his company. They'd only spoken a few times since TK moved in, but spending time with him was just so _easy_. Carlos was... let's call it _curious_.

"You want some help with this, man?" He asked, inspecting the salmons.

TK looked over his shoulder as he opened the last of the windows, scanning Carlos up and down. He was probably taking note of his uniform, but Carlos could've sworn his gaze held something else. "Don't you have a shift?" He questioned, walking over.

"Not until 8. I usually leave about two hours early to run some errands." That was technically true. 

TK stopped mere inches in front of Carlos, leaning against the same counter. His eyes searched for something, scanning Carlos' expression (he figured TK was debating whether to let him stay or not); out of nature, and maybe looking to impress a little, Carlos straightened up to his full height, while still maintaining a soft (hopefully friendly-looking) smile. 

"Yeah alright." TK finally said, and Carlos couldn't help how his smile became wider as TK turned away from him and toward the fish. "You a good cook?"

"I would hope so", Carlos replied, shooting a quick apology text to Michelle, letting her know that he wasn't going to make it to the food truck today. "My tío Andrés and tía Valeria own a restaurant out in Luling."

"Where is that?" 

"About an hour away, Guadalupe county, right along the San Marcos river."

"I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that's where you grew up?"

"God, I miss going to the river."

"Ya know, in New York, if you wanna swim, rivers aren't really an option. You either hit up a public pool or hike to a watering hole somewhere."

"Did you ever do that? Hike to a swimming hole?"

"A few times. There was this one weekend-"

And thus the conversation rolled on. Carlos spoke about his family, about growing up in Texas, about becoming a cop; TK spoke about his adventures in New York, about his dad, about all the nutjobs one has to deal with in the big apple (Carlos made sure to take note of him mentioning a guy he dated). The hour and a half it took to prepare the meal seemed to go by in a blink, the two of them chopping and stirring and working around each other like a surprisingly well-oiled machine, all the while exchanging stories and laughs and smiles and more than a few stolen glances. Every accidental touch and brush of skin in passing would send chills up Carlos' spine, and as he guided TK through properly cooking the salmon he stood just a bit too close behind him, but TK didn't seem to mind. 

Just as they put the finishing touches and seasonings on the dish, Carlos caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall. "Shit."

"What is it, what did I do?" 

TK's panicked expression as he took a step back from the fish made Carlos chuckle. "Nothing man, it looks great," Carlos noticed TK exhale before he continued, "but I have to go."

"Wait, you're not gonna eat?"

But Carlos was already gathering his belongings. "I have 20 minutes to clock in, TK."

"Ah shit, I'm sorry dude, if I hadn'-"

"Don't worry about it, really." He turned around halfway to the door, walking a few steps backwards as he said, "I had fun."

"Yeah," TK smiled at him. "Me too."

Carlos smiled back and began showing himself out, but stopped one last time at the doorway, thinking about how to ask him to do this again without being too forward. "Hey, TK?" TK hummed in response, and Carlos threw him a look over his shoulder. "Next time you try cooking something new just... check if I'm home first?"

TK's toothy grin made his heart leap all over the place. "Will do, Carlos." 

Carlos kept smiling to himself even after shutting the door and rushing to his car; he thought he heard TK call out to him from inside that he was going to save him some leftovers.

Much later that night, his suspicions were confirmed. When he arrived home after his excruciatingly exhausting shift, at around 2am, he was met with two tupperware containers on his front steps, along with a quickly scribbled note on top that read:

"It turned out delicious. Could be thanks to you. Buen provecho! -TKS"

That night, Carlos enjoyed what was one of the best after-midnight meals he'd had in his life. It could've been thanks to their combined talents in preparing it that made the dish so good, but it could also have been because, the whole time, Carlos was thinking about the cute gray-eyed fireman right next door, about how much he loved spending time with him that afternoon, and about how much he wanted to spend some more.

* * *

"You've done a great job with this place TK." 

TK turned around and smiled at his dad, who was taking a look around from his seat at the counter.

"Learned from the best," He replied, making his way from the cupboard to the fridge.

"I know it's only been, what, three months?"

"And a half."

"Three and a half months," Owen corrected himself, "but the house feels pretty empty without you, son."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure it does," TK brought over their glasses and shot his dad a look, the one with a raised eyebrow that both generations had mastered. "Especially with how much time Professor Hottie has been spending there." 

After a sip of his water and a second to look at the ground, Owen replied, "No comment."

Their shared laugh was interrupted by a light knock on the front door, and a voice casually calling out "Hey, TK." Not a second later, Carlos let himself in, not taking his eyes off a large book in his hand as he put the spare key back in its spot, on top of the outdoor wall lamp. It was commonplace for them to do this by now, they'd walk into each other's houses with little to no announcement (which led to a couple of slightly awkward, partly naked encounters at the beginning, but neither of them made much of a fuss about it), whether to rant about something that happened on one of their calls, or to try out a new recipe one of them found, or simply to hang out. TK could've sworn, however, that he had told Carlos his dad was coming over for dinner that night, although, with everything they tend to talk about from day to day, he wouldn't even take his own word for it.

"So my tía came to town and I asked her to let me borrow this for a while," Carlos started as he shut the door behind him, and Owen sent his son a questioning look. "It has a bunch of my family's recipes, so I thought you and I could-" Carlos then shut the book closed and held it at his side, standing up straight and donning his stoic policeman face when he noticed the present company. "Captain Strand."

"Officer." 

At Carlos' deer-in-headlights expression, TK tried his best (and utterly failed) to contain a snort.

"At ease, Reyes." Owen continued, rather amused. "Surprised to see me here? You do know he's my son, right?"

"Yes, yes I did, sir. Um- I just didn't- I didn't know you would-" 

Now this was a sight to behold for TK. Carlos Reyes, embarrassed in front of his dad. He let a smile grow onto his face, not really to mock or poke fun at his friend, but more because he couldn't help it. Smiling around Carlos came naturally at this point; besides, the situation was _kinda_ funny. 

"I'll just leave you to it."

TK's smile faltered, slowly vanishing as Carlos walked back to the front door. Owen seemingly noticed his son's expression, though, since he quickly spoke up while rising from his seat.

"Won't you join us?"

Carlos turned around with wide eyes, looking to TK for any indication as to what to reply. TK simply shrugged; why his dad was inviting Carlos to stay for dinner, he had no clue, but he didn't really have any reason to complain about it.

"I don't want to impose, sir."

"Please." TK watched as his dad motioned for Carlos to take a seat, before saying, "Call me Owen."

Carlos took tentative steps toward the counter. "Are you sure, sir?"

"Owen," He corrected again, "And of course, there's more than enough to go around! TK, tell him what we're having."

"Well, Carlos," TK sent his friend a teasing smile as he played along with his dad, reaching into the oven to pull out the appetizer. "The menu tonight consist of vegan cheddar and broccoli quinoa bites, to start-"

Owen's eyes lit up as he muttered, "I love me some quinoa."

"And in a bit, we'll be having some grilled asparagus and shiitake tacos." 

Owen leaned towards Carlos. "I'm a bit of a health nut, hope you don't mind."

"Sounds delicious, TK." Carlos stared pointedly at him, his eyes conveying 'I can't believe this', or maybe 'I can't believe you'. TK decided it was the former. In an attempt to provide a bit of comfort, TK softly squinted at him with an easy, closed-lip smile, hopefully letting him know there was nothing to worry about. 

That exchange must've taken longer than it seemed, because they were interrupted by Owen clearing his throat before speaking up.

"So, Carlos," He pointed at the book Carlos was still holding, "You were saying about the book?"

"Right." He placed the book on the counter. "My tía Valeria, she owns a restaurant, she has been holding on to this for years, and I asked her if she could let me borrow it for a few weeks." The book was old, handmade, and on the genuine leather cover were scraped the words 'Recetas de los Reyes'. "It has all of my family's best recipes going back four generations. I thought maybe..." He trailed off, smiling softly at TK. 

TK, seeing in Carlos' eyes that this meant more to him than he had initially let on, told him, "Carlos, I would love to try your family's recipes with you."

TK noticed Carlos' brow relax and his smile widen. He noticed how handsome his laugh lines were, how he bit his lip as he looked down. And he noticed how softly his hands moved across the book as he opened it and began scanning through, before realizing he was probably staring too much.

"You think there's anything vegan in there?" Owen asked, peering over the book.

"I highly doubt it, Guatemalan diet is ridiculously meat-heavy. I mean look at this, the first three recipes are for churrasco."

TK felt a certain warmth in his chest at the picture in front of him: his dad and Carlos wrapped up in conversation, sharing a moment and some quinoa bites. He watched them for a few seconds with a smile that he couldn't explain if he was asked about it, before taking an appetizer for himself and then finishing up the tacos.

Once seated around the dining table, after already starting with the main dish, Owen spoke up.

"So, if you don’t mind me asking, how long have you two been-"

"Oh, we met that same day I moved in," TK chimed in, having been ready since earlier for the 'how long have you known each other' interrogation. "We started hanging out a couple weeks later."

"Does he know about the fire alarm incident?" Carlos asked him.

"I'm sorry, the... fire alarm incident?" 

"That's a no, then."

TK and Carlos then launched into the story, followed by multiple recounts of cooking mishaps they'd had over the last three months: the dried out turkey, the spilled tres-leches batter (of which there were probably still remains in the nooks and crannies of the kitchen), and that one time they almost flooded Carlos' house, although that one was less about the cooking and more about the chaotic dish-washing that came after (to put it simply, they both ended up soaked and covered in soap suds). Owen himself had more than a few stories of his own, which earned him a lot of shushing and 'dad-that's-so-embarrassing’ facepalms from TK. 

Just as their laughter was dying down from the story of TK getting reprimanded two days into the job for accidentally taking out six firefighters with the hose (five of which found the whole ordeal hilarious), Owen's phone chimed. TK began clearing the empty plates, Carlos quickly standing up to help, as his dad checked the message.

"Ah, I'm sorry boys, I'm gonna have to skip dessert. Michelle needs me to fill out some stuff at the firehouse. Says it's urgent." He stood up and held out his hand to Carlos, who handed TK the dishes he was holding so he could shake it. "It's been a pleasure getting to know you, Carlos."

"Likewise capt- Owen." They shared a chuckle. "Say hi to Captain Blake for me."

"Will do. I'll see you out there. TK," He called to his son, who had heard the exchange from the kitchen where he was dumping the mountain of plates he'd had to carry to the sink. "Walk me out?"

As he made his way back, Carlos passed him and let him know he'd get started on the dishes. TK thanked him and approached his father, who put an arm around him as they walked to the front door. 

"You found a good one, TK." 

With a mystified chuckle, he asked him, "What do you mean, dad?"

"I mean I like him." Owen looked back at Carlos and contentedly put his hands in his pockets. He turned back towards TK as he opened the door. "You've had much worse boyfriends."

TK almost choked. Simultaneously, he heard Carlos fumble and drop a dish in the sink, awkwardly clearing his throat afterwards. 

"And none with a better ear apparently." Owen commented.

TK could feel his ears, his face, his entire body probably, heat up at the thought, before quickly correcting his dad without meeting his eyes.

"Dad, he's not m- we're not-" He couldn't even get the words out, but his dad knew him so well that he didn't have to.

"Really?" Owen whispered incredulously. "Could've fooled me. I mean with how much you've been talking to each other while on calls, all the looks and the smiles-"

"Goodbye dad!" TK gave him a quick hug before practically shoving him out the door. He heard him quickly call out "See you at work, son!" before the slam of the door cut him off.

Shit, was he right? Did they come off as a couple? Maybe there was a certain domestic vibe to them, but that's because they mostly hung out at their houses! Had his team gotten the same impression? Surely, there would've been a lot more teasing if they had...

When he noticed he was lingering at the door just a bit too long, he made his way back to the kitchen. Carlos kept washing the dishes as if he’d heard nothing, so TK decided to just shove it to the back of his mind for now and tried to restore the mood.

"Ya know, maybe it's a good thing my dad left," He remarked casually as he pulled dessert out of the oven. "Or else there wouldn't have been enough _chocolate chip zucchini bread_ to go around."

He heard Carlos behind him quickly put down the dishes and, in a split second, he was standing next to TK, drying his hands and ready to pounce on the small loaf of bread. TK had to all but run away from him to get the first bite, and they ended up sitting on the counter chairs munching on the entire thing.

"This how you thought you'd spend your Tuesday night?" TK spoke up after a while.

Carlos laughed into his beverage before putting it down. "Having a vegan dinner with the captain of the 126? No, definitely not.” He took a bite with a smile. “Thought it'd be you, me, a bit of google translate, and a growing grocery list."

TK couldn't help but grin at the domesticity of the thought. 

"The food was amazing though," Carlos commented, mouth still half full from the last bite of bread that TK let him have. "And your dad's a fun guy." 

"Yeah. Trust me, he knows. Goes to his head sometimes."

"No me digas." Carlos laughed. 

TK loved hearing his bits of spanish come out here and there, and proceeded to ask with a smile. "What's that mean?"

"It's like saying 'you don't say', but not... in a sarcastic way."

At that moment, TK realized that he’d found himself noticing more little things about Carlos that night than he ever had before. Like how much he gestured with his hands when he explained something, and how he tended to puff his chest out when he did so. Like how his right eyebrow always sat just a little higher than the left. Like how wickedly sharp his jaw was and how his eyes seemed to sparkle when he laughed. He let his mind and his gaze wander, giving his dad's comment the benefit of the doubt, before cutting himself off. There was no way, something would've happened between them by now. He couldn't believe the man.

"Who? Your dad?" It was then TK realizedhe'd said that last remark out loud. "What are you thinking about, TK?" Carlos asked, leaning his elbow on the counter and letting his head rest on his shoulder, eyes and attention fully fixated on TK.

It made his heart race, it made his guts turn, but he figured there was no harm in talking about it.

"My dad, he uh, he thought-” He cleared his throat, focused on the plate of crumbs in front of him. “Well, he assumed we were.. a thing, I guess." It wasn't until he fully made his way through the sentence that TK let himself look up at him. Carlos momentarily raised his eyebrows as he blinked, as if in realization, before donning a slight smile and looking away from TK.

"Right. Yeah, I thought I heard something like that."

"And that's..." TK searched Carlos' gaze, prompted him to finish the sentence, practically begging him to voice his thoughts about it. "Ya know, it's..."

Carlos looked back up at him, seemingly searching for something too, before letting his gaze fall again. "It's... it's ridiculous."

 _"Is it? Is it so ridiculous that I do want to date you? That I kinda want to kiss you right now? Would it be so ridiculous if we were a thing?"_ These were all the things going through TK's mind at that moment, all the things he could've said, instead of feigning a chuckle in agreement, saying "Right? The guy's crazy." 

TK hoped and prayed he wasn't giving away how much his chest hurt as he asked his friend (and nothing more), "Don't you have an early shift tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir, I do," Carlos exhaled as he checked his watch. "Who needs an agenda when I have a TK?" He lightly patted TK on the arm as he stood up and made his way out, exchanging a quick and quiet "See you."

And just like that, all was back to normal, or so TK had hoped it would be. The next day at the station, various coworkers asked him what was wrong, if he was okay (Judd even pulled him aside and asked if he'd had some sort of relapse). The rest of the week he tried his best to seem as upbeat as possible, though that wasn't very hard with friends like Mateo, Marjan, and Paul. Owen did approach him however, and asked him if everything was okay between him and Carlos, having noticed that they weren't talking as much on the field. TK blew it off as "they were quick calls, we didn't have much time" while fully aware that his dad knew him better than that, but thankfully he dropped it. TK had no choice to be aware of the fact that he was, indeed, avoiding Carlos as much as possible, and he hated it. Hated that he was doing it, and hated that Carlos had become such a big part of his life that no one would let him ignore it. He hated that he needed Carlos, hated that he wanted him, and hated, most of all, that Carlos had given no indication of feeling the same way.

* * *

"Chica, I don't know what to do." Carlos rubbed his face in his hands, throwing himself back against his couch. "He's been avoiding me all week, something changed that night."

"You talk to him, Carlos," He heard Michelle's voice through his phone, which lay on the coffee table in front of him. "You will not know what changed, if anything, until you ask him."

"What if he just doesn't want anything to do with me anymore?"

"You said things were going great with him, that you were building up to asking him out, right?”

“Yeah, I _was_ ,” Carlos emphasized the word. “But then when his dad assumed we were dating, he acted like he couldn’t bear the thought.”

Carlos heard Michelle sympathetically click her tongue before speaking. “Oh, I’m sorry Carlos.”

“No it- it’s fine. If he doesn’t like me like that then, that’s okay, I just-” He fiddled with one of the cords of his sweatpants as he (figuratively and literally) swallowed his pride. “I miss him.”

Michelle allowed a few seconds of silence before saying, “I still think you should try talking to him.” As she spoke, Carlos began noticing a faint sound. “Maybe you clear things up, or maybe things slowly get back to norm-”

"Wait, wait, shh." Carlos cut her off. The sound was music, coming from outside, toward the back of his house. "Sorry, let me call you back, Michelle."

Without letting her reply so much as an "okay", Carlos hung up the call and began making his way to the back door to investigate. As the music became louder, he made out that it was a single guitar, and the sound was too bright and clear to be coming from a speaker. He walked out onto the small, board-fenced backyard that he didn't use much, with only a couple of chairs and a barbecue grill, and quietly followed the sound toward his left. He stopped in front of the fence where his yard met TK's and stood there for a second, entranced by the melancholic, unfamiliar melody, the strings becoming softer and softer until there was only silence in the early evening air.

Carlos waited a few seconds before knocking on the fence. "Hey, TK?" he called over gently so as to not startle him.

He figured it didn't really work when he heard a loud exhale on the other side. "Yeah?" The voice he'd missed hearing so much replied.

"Was that you playing?"

TK took just a little too long to answer. "No?"

"Liar." Carlos chuckled. "Can I come over?"

"Yeah, you know where the key is."

Carlos felt a clench in his chest when he noticed the apprehension in TK's voice, but he turned around to go to his house anyway. He stopped short when he noticed the stack of chairs against the wall though, and decided that there was a quicker way to get there. 

He took the chairs (thankful that they were on the sturdier side) and carried them over to where he was previously standing. He used them as a step to boost himself over the 7 foot fence, landing swiftly on the other side before turning to a surprised TK.

"Who says I need the key?"

TK laughed, clearly amused, using the hand he had propped up on the guitar to cover his face. Carlos grinned at the sight.

"You know, for security purposes, those should really be higher," Carlos said, smoothing out his t-shirt as he walked over to TK. "That was way too easy."

"You're a show-off."

"Yeah, maybe a little."

Carlos took a look around TK's much nicer backyard. There was a small, still barely-grown vegetable garden to one side, and close to the house was one of those wooden table and bench sets. This was where TK was sitting, on top of the table with a black acoustic guitar in his lap, his hair a fluffy mess under one of his hundreds of hoodies. The last moments of golden hour upon him made his skin gleam and his cloudy eyes twinkle, and Carlos only noticed he was staring when TK scooted over to let him sit. He chose to sit on the bench rather than on the table, letting TK have space if he so wanted it.

"You never told me you could play."

"I’ve never told anyone I can play." TK responded, starting on another, sweeter, simpler melody. "Not even my dad."

"And he never found out?” Carlos propped his elbows up on the table behind him, resolving to watch the sunset overhead. “Even while you were living together?"

"This is the first time I’ve taken it out since we got to Austin."

Carlos tore his eyes away from the swirl of colors in the sky to shoot TK a shocked glance, or what was meant to be only a glance. Once his eyes landed on him, he couldn't rip them away, as if spellbound by TK, who was casually focused on the chords he was playing, chords that seemed infinitely complex to Carlos.

"I guess some people just don't lose their touch." Carlos remarked more to himself than anything, but it made TK smile, which made him grateful to have said it out loud. Carlos had long realized he'd probably do anything if it meant making TK smile. He watched him for a little longer, still unfamiliar to the melodies his fingers carried, and let him finish the song before speaking up again. "I always wanted to learn. Guitar, piano, something." He turned back towards the sky, now darker but just as colorful as it was three minutes before. "I was always taking care of my siblings, and then I got into the academy so young, I just... never really had the chance, I guess."

After a few seconds, Carlos noticed TK silently handing him the guitar from the corner of his eye. He took it and placed it on his lap as TK shifted from his seat on the table to the bench, a leg on either side of it, facing Carlos. He took Carlos' left hand in his own, positioning it on the arm of the guitar. He slowly and carefully placed Carlos' three middle fingers where they needed to go, one on the first fret of the third string, and the others on the second fret of the fifth and fourth strings.

"Now strum," He told him, and Carlos did so. It rang out beautifully. "That's E major." A bright and youthful smile grew onto Carlos' face.

TK repositioned Carlos' fingers into a new chord, an A major, now on the second fret of the second, third, and fourth strings. He strummed again, his smile widening and his insides flipping at the thrill of both making music and of TK's hand on his own (not to mention his knee against his thigh, and his breath on his shoulder; pretty much every bit of proximity was driving Carlos crazy). 

Still, he played on under TK's tutelage, and soon enough was strumming what could be considered a song after learning a third chord (D major). After a while of practicing a specific progression, once he was finally getting the hang of it, TK began humming over his shoulder. Then he started singing softly, right by Carlos' ear and sending chills down his spine.

_"If I lay here... If I just lay here... Would you lie with me and just forget the world..."_

"Hey, I know this." Carlos managed to say without breaking the strumming, allowing TK to keep singing with an amused smile on his face as he watched how much Carlos was enjoying himself.

_"I don't quite know... How to say... How I feel..."_

Before jumping into the next verse, Carlos turned to TK. He was still bobbing his head along to the strumming, but he managed to join into the lyrics.

 _"Those three words..."_ They sang in unison. _"Are said too much..."_ Neither of them could help their gazes traveling down to the other's lips, only a few inches away from each other. _"They're not enough..."_

When the chord change for the chorus came, Carlos stumbled and simply stopped playing. The sour notes lingered in the air around them, like something in wait, in need of being fixed. Something to be cleared up and made right. A crackle of energy, of magnetism, yearning to be fulfilled.

Finally, it was TK that uttered the words _"Fuck it,"_ cupping Carlos' face and softly kissing him. Carlos took a mere millisecond to respond, carefully putting down the guitar and turning to pull him closer. The kiss was gentle, slow, careful, both of them savoring every movement and change as if it was the most beautiful melody on Earth. Their lips fit perfectly into each other as if in harmony, and every touch was like a new instrument joining into the grandest symphony ever heard.

They eventually parted, both repeatedly coming back for smaller kisses until they were left leaning their foreheads together. TK's hands still slowly roamed Carlos' torso, while Carlos caressed TK's cheeks and hair. 

"Guess my dad wasn't so crazy after all..."

Laughing, Carlos let his head drop onto TK's shoulder, which TK took as an opportunity to bury his nose into the crook of Carlos' neck and wrap his arms around his shoulders. Almost instinctively, Carlos returned the embrace, and that was, perhaps, what felt the most right. How perfectly their bodies fit into each other, how blissful and comforted they both felt in the other's arms, and they both just wondered why the hell this hadn't happened until now. They stayed there until the sky was almost fully dark, and it was Carlos who pulled away and stood up in front of TK.

He held out his hand and cleared his throat. "Tyler Kennedy Strand,"

"Wait, how do you know-"

"Irrelevant," Carlos interrupted his question, to which TK responded with an eye roll and a grin. "Tyler Kennedy Strand, will you go out with me?"

TK took his hand and stood up in front of him. "Yes, Carlos Reyes, I will go out with you." He intertwined their fingers and brought his other hand up to the back of Carlos' neck, kissing him again with just a little more fervor than before, running his fingers through his hair. TK pulled away only to whisper: "Not tonight though."

**Author's Note:**

> I followed @shearmouth 's headcanon that Carlos' family is from Guatemala (hope you don't mind!), but since I'm Puertorican the bits of spanish slang I threw in might not correlate with the dialect (sorry about that if you noticed).


End file.
